Salvation
by Forgotten466
Summary: Choices affect not only your life, but the lives of those who care for you. Now one young man must make a choice that will forever change his life and the lives of all those around him. PG-13 for attempted suicide.
1. The Start

Darkness blanketed the skies as the heavens poured down an endless rain upon the earth. It had started the night before and continued with the same amount of strength until now. Only Noah could have seen rain of this vigor as it coated over the world, drowning those of evil. It was mid afternoon, but with the blackness of the sky those who would look out there window would have thought it was well into the evening. The only light that could penetrate the darkness of the sky were the large flashes that streaked across every couple of minutes that preceded a deafening boom. Each flash of light reviled the abundant rains that poured on the victims below.

From off in the distance the form of a building is shown. Street lamps and lights from within illuminated the old dull yellow walls and a sign informing those about history class. In the front of the building stood letters of red color boasting of the schools name, Middleton High School. The inside of the school is a flurry of activity as students and teachers alike prepare for the rain that will hit them as they run for there vehicles. At the front of the school the last of the yellow buses pull out with the adolescent woman and men anxious to start there other life away from school.

Back at the entrance of the school a figure stands in the doorway leading out into the rain. The light coming from the school illuminates the unkempt face and bargain-brand clothes that he wears. Yes the figure is male, this could be told from his height of over six foot and the lacking physical features he would need to be considered female. As he stands beneath the doorway raindrops splash onto the ground, slowly they soak through his oversized shoes to his bare feet. His gaze travels downward looking at his feet. He slowly moves his toes to fell the wetness of his socks and finally he looks up into the sky shaking his head as the rain splashes onto his forehead. As he looked at the rain he not curse or ask why this was happening now, to him this was expected. Long ago he had realized that this was his luck, if you could call it luck. He slowly stepped into the downpour to begin the journey to his home. In a matter of seconds his clothes clung to his thin frame as the rain soaked him to the bone. As he walked he placed a hand to his forehead to push some of his soaked blonde hair out of his eyes so that he could continue the journey home.


	2. Remembering

The rain never let up as he made his journey home. It was as though nature felt his pain and wept along with him or that the gods above were mocking him. As he made his way down the streets he put his hand to his nose and pulled back instantly feeling the painful sting coming from it. The other pains in his chest and abs had gone away, but his side was another matter. Instead of his normal route home he walked a different route in hopes of putting off his destination. Times when he felt like this he would walk, not in any direction or destination, but in hopes of escaping the feeling he had within himself. On this particular journey he found himself coming across a bus stop. The cover protected the old graffiti filled bench from the rain and he felt himself being draw into the dryness that it held. Slinging his book bag to the side he crashed onto the bench allowing gravity to finally take control. Sitting under the dull light he remember the transactions of that day and the reason why he felt the pain inside.

_Class had finally ended, to him it was as if he had finally emerged into the light from the long tunnel he had been making his way through. He would have sprinted out of the class if he had not been caught sleeping. He had to wait for fifteen minutes as Barkin talked about principles and respect hoping to install some type of pride in his private. All this did was bore him further; Barkin's lectures always had a way of ending with some battle scene he had lived through. When Barkin did finally finish he sprinted out of class grabbing some books at his locker hoping to catch the bus without running into any trouble, of how wrong he was._

_After retrieving his books he went to use the bathroom for a second and walked into the lion's den. He never saw it coming as a fist slammed into his nose producing blood from it as he fell towards the floor. His head bounced on the tile and when he regained his senses he looked up at the sight of the bulky form of Brick Flagg smiling down on him. "Told you the next time I saw you I would hurt you bad Stoppable."_

_In his stupidity Ron added on, "great to see the English lessons are paying off." After that everything became a blur, he had allowed Brick and the friend he was with to make him into a punching bag. They bounded on his chest until he was on the ground gasping for air as the last punch knocked the wind out of him. Most would have been satisfied with the beating they gave him, but for those two they felt it was only a beginning. They then dragged him to a stall and forcible plunged his head into the bowl canting swirlly. After that they preceded to kick him in the side a couple of times for laughs. His final sight was that of Flagg's shoe coming towards his face, after that he blacked out. He had woken up later; unaware of how long he had been lying there and slowly made his way to the sink. There he cleaned up his face and made it to the front of the school were he notice the busses had already left. It didn't matter though, nothing mattered._

The sound of a bus in the distance snapped him out of thought and made his head move towards the lights coming towards him. He was about to leave when he suddenly stopped and just stood there. The bus pulled up and the friendly face of an old black man who looked him up and down greeted him. "You want to get on or are you just getting out of the rain?"

He looked towards the man and replied, "the second."

The driver just smiled at him saying, "get on, this one is on me."

He took his seat giving his tanks to the driver as he passed him. He had rode the busses before and even though this would not take him home it would get him much closer. Besides it felt good to get out of the rain.

* * *

As you can already tell this won't be anything like my other work, EndGame. I wanted to take a serious subject, ie suicide, and see if i could help some people. When i produce more chapters you will be able to see my intent. Lastly this will be updated every 4 to 5 days, it won't be long paragraphs like i'm use to writing.

Until then good reading and thanks for the reviews.  
-Forgotten466- 


	3. A Talk

**-A Talk**

The seat was uncomfortable underneath him as he sat there. The bus's interior was like any other vehicle of public transportation, a wreck. It wasn't much to look at and there was some pungent order that was infesting itself into his nostrils that he couldn't put his finger on. He had chosen a seat behind the driver, it was the first available one, and started to stare at the only other occupants on the bus.

It was a young couple, probably starting off in college, looking at each other with lust in their eyes. The boyfriend was playing with her face and hair, gently tracing the curves of her face with his finger. His girlfriend for her part was giggling and giving off playful moans trying to intrigue him. They were lost in there own world not caring who saw them or what they were thought of. They had each other and that was all that mattered.

Water flew from his damp hair as whipped his head around turning away from the disgusting sight. His slumped downward until it looked like he was examining his own oversized shoes. That's when a voice spoke up, "so it's love."

He lifted his head to see the old man looking at him in the mirror that was above his head. In his mood he would have ignored the man, but since he did give him a free ride he might as well answer back. "Yeah, how'd you figure."

"Well, it wasn't that hard by the look on your face after you saw those two love birds in the back. By the way the names Carl, what's yours?"

"The names Ron, by the way thanks again for the free ride. I'll pay you back later."

"Don't worry about it. If you want to even out the debt why don't you tell me why your were out in weather like this, you could catch your death."

Ron sighed, he honestly didn't want to talk but he might as well, this was a free ride. "Short story is that a crappy week had just finished on an even crapper note."

The old man merely chuckled to himself after hearing the soaked boy talk. Many would normally think a bus driver like himself wasn't that keen on people, but being observant for thieves and crooks riding the bus had given him a feeling when people were hurting. "Let me guess, you lost a girl and now you're drowning yourself in the rain over her."

For the first time since that afternoon sorrow had been replaced with shock on Ron's face. "How did you know that?"

A sad smile formed on the mans face as he replied, "Cause I found myself doing the same thing forty years ago. Her name was Jane and she was the most beautiful creature God had made with his own two hands. Even Jesus would have had to bow to her fantastic craftsmanship. Lush chocolate skin, silky hair and the most beautiful rump imaginable. So, who's your girl."

Ron now had replaced his look of shock with that of slightly creepy after hearing this strangers very descriptive talk about his girlfriend. Either-way he continued on, "her name is Kim. She has tan skin, red hair, also silky, and an ass that would probably make Jane look twice. By the way I'm also Jewish, could we keep the Jesus talk down."

At this news the driver burst out in a fit of laughter, "Sorry about that. If it makes you feel better though, I now declare this bus a religiously free bus. So, you want to tell me what happened?"

"I found out a couple months back that she had feelings for me. Even though I had feelings for her too I decided to end it there. Later I found out that she was under the control of some sort of device that brought emotions to the surface. After that we never talked about the feelings we had for each other, we just went day by day." Ron exclaimed his point by a long sigh at the end.

"Not entirely sure what all that talk about machines was, but what happened had to change the way you feel about her?"

"She found another guy named Eric. She told me yesterday that there going steady. I blew my chance in telling her how I felt about her. You'd think that knowing somebody for that amount of time it would be easier to confront them." Ron had to wipe away some water that collected around his eye, he hoped Carl had not seen it.

"I know exactly what you mean. I lost Jane to another man before I could tell her how I felt. Never got the chance to and what hurts is not telling her, but knowing she's out there with somebody that's not me." Carl looked into the mirror wait for a response.

Ron thought about this for a moment before asking, "What did you ever do about it?"

"I got married to another women, and when I saw got married I mean that I had to. Because of Jane I got drunk one night and woke up in another girl's bed. I found out a month later she was pregnant." The happiness that had adorned his face was no gone, given way to sorrow. "As the years past I still thought about her, even after my wife died. Now I'm sixty-two and I drive a bus for almost twelve hours a day so that I don't have to stay any longer in an empty home."

The busses brakes came to life as he slowly stopped the bus and opened the door to the last stop. The couple was already out the door when Ron got up. He was stopped by the gift of an umbrella from the outstretched hand of Carl. "Take it, many people leave stuff like this on the bus. And before you leave a word of advice. Don't end up a shell of a man like me, it is not a life worth living."

With that Ron said his good-byes and watched the bus leave. He opened the umbrella and started towards home with Carl's words playing in his mind.

* * *

I just want to say thank you to everyone who reviewed EndGame. It inspired me to write almost half a chapter in one day. God i hope it sounds good when i wake-up. On another note the talk Carl had with Ron was ment to help, now we just have to see if Ron uses it to help himself. 


	4. Something

**-Something**

Shoes fell upon the wet earth in a slow even pace heading towards a destination of home. Ron had been walking this 1belated pace for the past ten minutes ever since he left the warmth of the bus. Now his only comfort was the umbrella he held that protected him from the merciless rain. Even with the harsh rain the umbrella itself wasn't that important to Ron at the moment, but Carl's words were. Especially his last statement he told Ron, 'Don't end up a shell of a man like me, it's not a life worth living.' This phrase had been repeating itself in his head like an old record player that was stuck on a single lyric.

His footsteps suddenly halted as he noticed the area around him. Street lights, houses and even the trees started to look familiar. A quick view of the area that incased him reveled to him how he knew this area. Before him stood a two-story ranch style home, used by a middle-class family. Even in the rain one could see the care that the owners put into it. This house before him was home to his best friend, Kim Possible. Somehow in the swirling confusion of his mind he walked the path of streets to his home that also took him to her house along the way.

As he looked upon the house he remembered the numerous days he had spent with Kim. The two of them would play games, talk about life and listen to one another. Out of everything he did with Kim, listening was his favorite. 1Whether it was about her parents and how they were un-cool or how Bonnie had been a pain to her, he would listen and then offer a comforting hand to show he cared. It was while he listened to her that he started to think and care for her differently than normal. He started to think that there was something inside him and maybe something more between them. At first he ignored it, then as time went by he started to deny it and finally he grew to accept it. Then one day a mission like any other had given him hope that there was something. As he closed his eyes he could still remember that day, the smell of hair, the look in her eyes, but mostly he could still remember the taste of her lips.

"_You see, tonight's the big Middleton Day festival and I don't have a date." Her timid voice and shy face were a sight unknown to him as his best friend stood there, uncertain of herself._

_Dumfounded he tried looking into her eyes only to find them downcast in fear of his answer. Seconds were passing like hours; he had to say something, anything. Final he spoke, "date? You wanna go to the festival as my date?" It wasn't the best answer, but at least he said something._

_Her face filled with joy as she cheered, "oh, I thought you'd never ask!"_

"_Wait, but I ..." Any replied was stopped by the force of her lips against his. At first he was taken back, unsure of what was going on or how he found himself in this situation. But after a moment he let himself relax and wrapped his arms around her deepening the kiss. He had dreams and hopes of something like this happening, but never in his imagination did he believe he would be caressing her lips with his own. But here it was like in all the fantasies he had. _

_Then it was over, she pulled back and placed a hand over her mouth in a vain attempt to stop giggling. When she had let go he felt weak and suddenly found himself on the floor looking at the ceiling in a blissful daze. _

_Later on in the day and with much thought he decided to break things off thinking it was better to just be friends. It was only after a series of mishaps did he discover the machine on her neck. At first he thought all hope was lost, but then he discovered its purpose, to bring emotions to the surface. Joy once again filled him as he thought of the possibility of them together again. But failed attempts and fear of rejection lead him down this road and to were he now stood in front her house, alone._

He was snapped out of his daydream by the sound of a blue Toyota Camery pulling into her driveway. Ron instantly recognized the car and who it belonged to, Eric. Kim's boyfriend had pulled into her driveway to drop her off after they had gone shopping. Homecoming was tomorrow and Kim had skipped her last period to pick up her dress and had also brought him along.

Moments passed as inside the car bags were grabbed and final kisses given before Kim dashed to the protection of her porch and the roof that covered it. Even with the downpour separating them Ron could still see Kim's face, that face that held those angelic features only God could have crafted for her. Under the porch Kim turned around holding a hand to her mouth and blowing a kiss to her departing boyfriend, and then she opened the door balancing the bags trying to get in. If she was to look back before shutting the door she would have noticed the young blond across the street holding an umbrella touching his check with a sad smile.

* * *

_First i would like to thank everyone who reviewed this story. I not sure if i wrote this correct, i don't think i'm at writing emotion to well. To anyone reading EndGame it will be updated tommorow. Word of warning though the next installment will talk about September 11th, Iraq War and refrences of tourture in it._

_One other note. For those of you who read EndGame, yes i did re-use some of the words when he went into the flashback. But in my defence i had two tests and a paper due this week. Not to mention i got a chapter for my other story done in under two weeks. Besides it's my story, not like it's copywrite_

Until then thanks for the reviews  
-Forgotten466- 


	5. Nothing Inside

Nothing Inside

Home, a refuge from the horrors of the outside world, a place were one can feel content within its structured walls. Thoughts like these and similar ones clouded Ron's mind as he passed through the doorway of his own home. Finally he had come to his destination, the one place where he should feel belonged. As the door shut behind him Ron imagined the sound of his mother greeting him and asking how his day went. A homemade snack prepared on the counter that he would fight Rufus over. A quick chat about what happened and maybe some advice on a problem he had that day. Then time would pass until dinner came were there family would sit and join in lighthearted conversation of the days events.

Instead he was meet by the quiet emptiness that dwelled within these walls. His mother was on a business trip out of state and had taken his father as well. They decided to leave Ron behind so that he wouldn't miss anymore school then he had to. Missions had already taken a good chunk of his school time. And Rufus, his beloved pet, was in the process of his yearly check-up. Once a year he would go in for a couple of days to the vet and they would give him his vaccinations, a physical and clean his teeth.

After a sigh he climbed the stairs leading to the second story of his house, where he lived. With a fling of his arm he tossed his backpack and newly acquired umbrella to the ground of his room and headed for the bathroom. There he undressed and in his naked state he observed himself in the mirror. Bruises were forming along his ribs and parts of his chest from the beating he had received earlier. New scars would form to join the numerous others that had collected over his body through the years. Some were from missions were he had been made a fool of, but most were from the torment of school. The bullies that would abuse him because of his lack of strength and the weakness he showed that told his attackers he wouldn't fight back. As he thought of this he turned his head away in disgust, eyes watering with the realization of the word that described him perfectly. Pathetic.

In the shower he turned on the water only to feel the same coldness that he had been felling outside. Ron turned it hotter and still he felt nothing. Again he turned the knob and yet nothing, just the same cold he was trying to escape. This felling of cold consumed his body and every part of him. It was if he wasn't allowed to fell anything, that he was empty on the inside. He stood in the shower with his thoughts letting the hot water turn his skin red until he finally left.

Leaving the bathroom Ron went to his room were he dried off and dressed. He grabbed his clothes and headed towards the garage were they keep their washer and dryer. With the bin full he preceded to load the washer when a piece of metal fell out of his fathers pants. As he bent down he saw that it was a key, why would his father have a key in his pocket? Realization hit him when he remembered when he saw this key. Before his parents left his father had cleaned the one gun he owned that was kept in their bedroom. This key that Ron held in his hand was the means of opening a secured book that stored that gun. Leaving the washer he walked to his parents room to return the precious key to its rightful place. But something stopped him; he wasn't sure what it was. It was as if a voice in the back of his mind told him to keep the key. After a moment he pocketed the key and went back to finish loading the washer.

* * *

_Let me thank those of you who have been reading this other work of mind. It doesn't get many reviews like EndGame, but i will continue updateing it until the story is over. Word of warning thoguh, some intence chapters are coming up, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. _

Until then Good Reviewing  
-Forgotten466-


	6. A Choice

A Choice

The chicken in front of him looked like it already had been passed through someone's system and then heated and placed on the plate before him. Normally Ron would have been able to turn this leftover into a meal that would be served in a four star restraint. But today, like the past week, he had lost his appetite and didn't feel like taking the time to make a proper meal out of this drab. Normally he would have loved to make something spectacular out of this nothing. He had always loved cooking, it was a way for him to feel in control of something. Food that was brunt, undercooked or dropped on the floor, this was something that would happen if he lost control. This was the reason why his dishes were spectacular, because he always kept a level of control whenever he cooked. But now something was different, as if he had lost control. All his mind did now was race in circles about the sorry life he had lived. Even now all he could think about was what he did wrong today, the better choices he could have made. So there he sat with his fork poking and pushing around the lump of fowl, taking stock of his life and what it had added up to.

Normally on any other day he would be sitting there in light conversation with his family about the days events. His mother would try to correct him and his pet Rufus about there eating habits. All the while his father would start to playfully imitate what Ron had been told out of sight of his mother. Of course being a mother she knew what he was doing and would start scolding him, in the end a laugh and smile was shared by all. Even when he wasn't eating at his own home he would be around family. The Possible's would joyfully open up there home to him and he would enjoy the great cooking. Many would probably think that being a mother and holding a full time job of brain surgeon would mean that the cooking was bad. It was the exact opposite; every morsel of food was taken care of with great preparation making it delectable. But what he remembered most was the happiness and joy that he felt sitting there. Even though he wasn't a true member of their family they thought of him as their son. Thinking about happier days like that only depressed him more as his mind returned back to reality and the horrific leftovers before him.

Standing up he took his dinner walking away from their kitchen table. The piece of meat made the sound of a dull thud as it hit the bottom of the trashcan. Walking towards the sink he remembered the words of wisdom from Carl as they echoed in his head. "Don't end up a shell of a man like me, it is not a life worth living," man was he right.

The raging storm outside had knocked out the power twenty minutes ago. There was no television, radio or lights. The phones still worked, but who would want to talk to him. Then realization overtook him, Kim was home. He almost was in a sprint getting to the phone, dialing the numbers. A few rings went by before someone answered.

"Hello." It was Kim; he could recognize that angelic voice anywhere. A smile formed on his lips hearing hear voice. But most importantly, he felt a warmness inside of him start to grow. "Hello," she asked again sounding almost annoyed.

Ron shook his head trying to clear it and register where he was again. "I, uh, hey KP."

"Oh, hi Ron," any irritability in her voice vanished one she realized who it was. "Look are you calling for anything important?"

Confusion now hit Ron, why would he need a reason to call her. They had talked for hours with no particular reason before, on many occasions. Ron answered back the only way he could, "no, not really. I was just calling to say hi, I missed you at school today."

"Ah, that's sweet Ron. I went out shopping with Eric for homecoming. Speaking of which I need to get off the line. I have a lot of important things that have to get done before the dance tomorrow, so bye?"

"Yeah okay KP, I'll see you later, bye." And with that he hung up the phone with only one thought in his head. 'She has more important things than me.' Whatever warm feeling he had in his stomach vanished and was replaced by misery and grief.

Placing the phone back in its cradle he walked out of the kitchen into the living room. The homecoming dace was tomorrow; not that he was going. Like many dances before this one he would end up going alone or just staying at home. Zita, his last girlfriend, had broken up with him about four months ago during their summer vacation. She told him that it was because they weren't connecting and that she didn't feel anything between them. All Ron could do now was shake his head thinking back to those words. It wasn't as if he could blame her, why would anyone want to be with someone like him.

Sure he had tried to get someone else to go with him to the dance. But as was his life, every girl rejected him. Go to school to fail, get beat up and rejected. These thoughts played in his mind thinking about what his life had added up to. Even going out on missions was becoming ridiculous. Some of these villains he had dealed with for almost two years and they still couldn't remember his name. Stoppable, how hard of a name was that? It wasn't like it was some ordinary name like Smith.

'Why bother with this, why bother waking up another day with nothing to live for. The world would be a better place if I just ended it now.'

At that moment the world around Ron stopped, had he just thought of that. Suicide, he was thinking about suicide. Never in his life had he thought about contemplating something so extreme, why would he think of it now? Something was wrong with him, or was there something to what he was thinking.

Slowly the world began to move again as Ron pulled himself out of his thoughts. It was weird though; he should be scared out of his mind for thinking about something like that. But in all truth, it felt more like an answer than anything. He already knew that his life was worth nothing, so why not end it on his terms.

Turning Ron walked towards the stairs, feeling his pocket were he had keep his father's key to the lock box. If anything it now felt like an answer to his problems.

* * *

_Let me start off by apologizing about not reviewing for a while. I had an enormous amount of tests and work for school before spring break. On spring break I took another a second job unloading trucks and worked a total of 96 hours. So for all of those people who went to Galveston during their break, well you suck._

_The other chapter is getting finished as we speak along with EndGame. So look for both of them in a couple of days._

Until the good reviewing.  
-Forgotten466-


	7. Preperation

**-Preperation**

Nothing mattered to him anymore. His existence on this world was worthless and meaningless. This was the only escape he had. The only way to rid himself the pain of his life. Sure his parents would be sad for a day or two, but they would get over it soon. And it wasn't like anyone else would care, nobody cared about him.

_**Send away for a priceless gift  
One not subtle, one not on the list  
Send away for a perfect world  
One not simply, so absurd  
In these times of doing what you're told  
You keep these feelings, no one knows**_

His room was spotless, a feat that had never been accomplished before. He even went as far as to organize his draws and other belongings so that he would not be burdening his parents when he was gone. With one final sweep he checked his room making sure his belongings and other items were put away. He was sure his parents would send them to the Salvation Army or some other good cause. His death could help his parents, give them a tax break.

_**What ever happened to the young man's heart  
Swallowed by pain, as he slowly fell apart **_

He then went to his desk and took out a couple sheets of paper and a pen. Right there and then he began writing, pouring forth more emotion into this than anything before in his life. He wrote a letter to his parents thanking them for housing him and caring the burden of keeping him. He wanted them to know that he was doing this for the right reasons and that he new they would be okay when he was gone. He then wrote to the Possibles to thank them for putting up with him when he wasn't even there own son. And finally he wrote to Kim thanking her for caring the burden of their friendship. He wanted her to know that he was thankful that she keep the shared up just for him. And that he hoped she lived to her full potential, something that she could not do when he was around.

_**And I'm staring down the barrel of a 45,  
Swimming through the ashes of another life  
No real reason to accept the way things have changed  
Staring down the barrel of a 45 **_

After the letters he headed down to his parents room to retrieve the device that would free him from this world of pain. Slowly he walked towards the closet and pulled down the lock box that held his escape. Taking the key from his pocket he carefully twisted it until a click was heard and the top unbuckled. He pulled the lid back reveling the weapon and freedom he wanted. He fingered it lightly feeling the cold metal against his skin and the hard grip of its handle. There was nothing stopping him now.

_**Send a message to the unborn child  
Keep your eyes open for a while  
In a box high up on the shelf, left for you, no one else  
There's a piece of a puzzle known as life  
Wrapped in guilt, sealed up tight **_

He ascended the stairs drawing closer to his decision with ever step he took. As he walked down the hall he passed picture after picture of family moments that he once shared. Before he could make it to his bedroom he passed one last picture, one of him and his family. The three of them were in it along with Kim. Yes Kim, she was asked to come along to by his parents. She had always been thought of as a member and this picture was just one of the things that proved it. With tears in his eyes he continued on to his room and his final destination.

_**What ever happened to the young man's heart  
Swallowed by pain, as he slowly fell apart **_

There on his bed he sat thumbing the device that would end his suffering. Twinges of remorse and regret swelled inside of him as he sat there. Why this the right idea, was there another way? Could he be wrong, could there be another way to take away the pain that he felt inside? If he were to go forward with this would people actually miss him? Looking at the gun he pondered these thoughts and many others like it, but in the end he pulled the hammer back on the gun and slowly brought it up. As it travel up his body a signal thought came rushing through his mind, 'is there another way.'

_**Everyone's pointing their fingers  
Always condemning me  
And nobody knows what I believe  
I believe **_

_**"45" by Shinedown**_

* * *

_Honestly I don't think this chapter was up to par with the others I wrote. Just something nagging me. Probably the fact that this was the hardest chapter I have ever had to write. It wasn't easy trying to get into that type of mind-frame. Not to mention this was the first time I ever tried to use a song with telling the story._

_This is not the end, only the begging. In the next couple of chapters I think you will be able to see what my motives are for writing a story of this caliber. But for now you'll have to deal with this chapter. Lastly I want to say that anyone thinking about suicide should go immediately and get help. Just get help from somebody._

_Until the good reviewing.  
-Forgotten466-_


	8. A Face in the Mirror

**-A Face in the Mirror**

Time had stopped. Moments that should have passed in the blink of an eye dragged on for eternity. But not everything had stopped, the sound of a constant beating filled the endless moments that time had forgotten. At first it was nothing, a thud that would sound every couple of seconds. Then it became faster, as if someone was playing with a drum controlling the rhythm. That's how it sounded now, a constant beating growing louder and louder. Maybe it was the sound of the beating or the fact that time had stopped, but it had shocked the young man back into reality. A young blond man that was sitting on his bed, holding a gun to his head.

Realization hit him like a smack in the face; he was holding a gun to his head. The barrel was pressed firmly into his temple waiting, begging for him to squeeze the trigger. He could see it; he could see everything that he was doing. For a mirror sat in front of his bed, a mirror that for now was a picture into the sin that he was about to commit.

Slowly his hand dropped taking the gun with it. A creak was all that was heard as both his hand and the gun dropped onto the bed. Confusion now filled his head as he tried to figure out what was going on, how he had gotten to this. Nothing made sense; his mind was a blank as he tried to recall the past twenty-four hours. Everything was blank, that was until the young man looked down to see the gun that he still clung to. It was at that moment that everything came flooding back into his memory. The day's events at school, the loneliness that he had been feeling and the talk he had with Kim. Everything that lead up to this moment, to him holding this gun, taking it in hand and holding it to his head ready to pull the trigger.

"Ahhh," a scream shot forth from his throat. One so horrific that even the sirens of Greek mythology would shudder from. No sooner had the scream came then the gun was hurtled from his hand hitting the wall. It was a miracle that it didn't go off slamming into the wall and yet another one when it smacked into the carpeted floor of his room.

With speed unknown to him he jumped from the bed, from the gun he once held, from the reflection in the mirror that warned him of his actions. He ran tripping halfway down the stairs, tumbling the rest of the way down. Quickly he got back up on two feet once more running away from the scene of what he had almost done. He found himself in the garage, out of breath and with no idea of what to do. Then he spotted the mini van that belonged to his parents, the one car they left behind. Quickly he jumped in it, fishing out his keys that he always carried. Thank God he still had them, there was no way he would be able to go back into that room. Jumping into the car he pressed the button opening the garage door. Once it was cleared he pressed hard on the accelerator bringing the engine to life with a mighty roar exiting the house. Once on the street he changed gears and hit the accelerator again speeding down the street. He had to get away, away from what could have been.

* * *

Nothing really to say. Wonder who Ron's going to run into.

Until then good reviewing.  
-Forgotten466-


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